Of Sun And Moon
by CharcoalCat
Summary: In a graveyard, in the early light of morning, a story of a life born from death, and a light born from darkness. Jou x Y.Bakura, shounen ai. Rated for language. Chapters 1,2 and 3 have had a REWRITE and been REPOSTED. Chap3 is Y.Bakura's POV. Chap4 soon.
1. Sunrise

This chapter has been modified from its original publication (on or about 08-08-04) in preparation for completion and a possible prequel. The other revamped chapters should be up within a week of this day, 07-31-07.

Yu-Gi-Oh was created by Kazuki Takahashi sensei and is not mine. I'm making no money from this work of fiction, I can barely claim credit for the plot of this little ditty.

Will contain shounen-ai (literally, boy love. Or, if you prefer, slash, mild yaoi, homosexual relationships between fellas, etc.), mentions of death and a few curses.

Enjoy.

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Chapter 1

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I've always hated graveyards. Somethin' about 'em always gives me the creeps. I dunno, maybe it's just me, but I'm thinkin' it's probably got somethin' t'do with all the dead guys under your feet.

So why am I here then?

Well... 'cuz I know _he'll_ be here.

He always is. Every year, first day of spring, like clockwork. I come find him up here and drag him home. He won't leave on his own and I can't just leave him.

Well no. I mean, I _could_ but... I really don't wanna.

So, as I'm walking across the grass, still fresh with morning dew, and through a break in the trees I see him lying there like a corpse himself, (can't hold back a shiver at that), I'm not really surprised. Not anymore. I was the _first_ time he did this; seriously, it scared the crap outta me. I ran around all frantic, lookin ' everywhere for the guy for damn near three days. I even called in the gang to help me out. Probably would've asked Kaiba even.

Lucky for my dignity, the jerk was outta town.

This is a routine thing by now though. I know he's been here all night, he would have come at exactly three minutes before midnight.

He always does.

Every year since..._It_ happened.

What, you ask, is _It_?

Eh, ask me later. Just don't ask him; you're too young to die. Anyway…

I finally get close enough to circle around to the front of him. I can see his face now, he's awake, his dark eyes staring blankly, his attention turned inward. (Does that even count as awake?) He's laid out crosswise in front of a white headstone, curled up loosely over the grave. His left arm is curled around himself, the right flung outward before him, tips of his fingers barely resting on the memorial stone. I can see his breath making little clouds in the early chill and I feel better about his deathly stillness.

The damp clings to his worn jeans and the jacket he remembered to wear this time.

Hey, isn't that_ my _jacket?

His skin, his lashes, his hair, they all shimmer with the tiny gems of moisture, but I doubt he's noticing. I hurt for him, seeing him this way, but still... I gotta admit, he's beautiful like this.

It somehow feels wrong to disturb him just yet, so I hesitate. I consider the flowers I brought with me. Five creamy white roses, one for each year that's passed since the incident-of-which-we-do-not-speak. They're good ones, I can smell their sweet scent without even tryin'. They almost seem to glow in the early light. They remind me of the reason for this outing, the one he, _we_, came here for.

I get an idea then, call it an inspiration, and a tiny smirk forms on my face. I walk around the plot, get right up next to the carved headstone and seat myself cross-legged on the grass beside his bowed head. The top of his head is close enough that I could touch him if I moved my leg even an inch. I take a regretful moment to run my fingers over the stone reminder beside me. The familiar patterns and words aren't really a comfort:

"_An unsung hero, gone too soon."_

They seem too final. Not enough. It's just that it'd be worse _not_ to have them.

Bedded down in the center of the pale marble surface, below the meager epitaph, is the real tomb, presiding over the empty grave below. A twisted piece of golden metal, blackened and flawed from its former glory. It's obvious someone has taken pains to clean it up as best they can. If you look closely enough you can see the chipped surface around it where it'd been forcefully removed at one point. The evidence of some greedy jerks craving for things they're better off without. They wouldn't be the first to covet it. And I'll bet they've joined the list of other bodies that'll never be found, like so many other thieves who've tried their luck at grave robbing here. Ironic, that, considering the avenger.

Turning my attention back to the man before me, I carefully run one hand softly over his outspread hair, the damp, glimmering strands clinging to my skin in passing. He doesn't stir, and I take that as a sign to be bolder. It's a good thing he trusts me enough to take my touch for granted. Otherwise, with a hair trigger like his, I'd be in for a world of hurtin' by now. I run my hand over his pale mane a few more times, glad that it doesn't seem to bother him. I'd worry at this stillness if he were anyone else, but he does this kinda freaky shit to me all the time; I'm used to it. Mostly.

This is kinda like pettin' a wet cat now that I think about it. I snicker silently at the look he'd probably have on his face if I told him that.

Assured that he's not moving any time soon, I lay the roses on the grass on my left and use both hands to gather a section of his hair and run my fingers through it, careful not to pull too hard as I smooth out the tangles. When I can run my fingers through without snagging, I hold the ordered strands in my right hand, and pick up one of the roses. Slowly, carefully, I begin to braid the long stem of the rose into the lock of hair. My hands move deftly, familiar with the task, and as I finish I arrange the final result to admire my handiwork. I'm smile, rather pleased with myself.

I tame another section of hair and reach for another rose to continue the process, being careful not to rouse him before I finish. Left and right and left and over and over and over...

I continue like that for several minutes, watching the play of light against his hair and skin, how it reflects and highlights his porcelain good looks. I've done four plaits and I'm reaching for the final blossom before he begins to stir.

He shifts his legs first, curling them tighter and I make a sound of protest in the back of my throat. Damn, I wanted to see how it would look when I was done! He stiffens for a moment, probably sensing something out of the ordinary. He reaches up a hand to touch his hair, and rolls over slowly to glare at me. He flinches a bit, as he is now facing directly into the early morning sun, shoves my knee out of the way and sits up. He blinks the gathered drops of water from his lashes, eyes narrowing further, making his glare more potent. I'm not bothered by it. I hardly go a day without seeing that look. I just grin a bit sheepishly and hold the final rose in his direction.

He stares at my peace offering in silence as his glare melts into something else, some expression I can't place. Too many emotions there, none of them stand out. Sadness maybe, regret, guilt, longing, anger, appreciation...

I didn't used to think he had that many emotions, thought he was just an evil bastard. It just goes to show how stupid it is to assume these kinda things. Now, I sometimes think he's the most human of us all.

He accepts the flower and lays it in the spot he had previously occupied. Slowly he raises one hand to begin the process of undoing the other blooms from his hair. I start to move forward, intending to give him a hand, but he stops me with a peevish sort of look to let me know I've already done enough, thank you very much. I hold my hands up in a universal gesture of peace and bite my tongue to keep from laughing. I'll just sit back an' watch.

I love to watch him. I prop my elbows on my thighs and my chin on my hands as I sit and stare. As he brings both hands to his task, they're a bit stiff at first, probably from bein' out in the cold all night, but they don't stay that way for very long.

As his hands move in and out of the threads of his hair, I just look on, unashamed, captivated by how graceful he is. He ignores me mostly, except at one point when he's trying to disengage a leaf from a tangle and shoots me a look that seems to beg the question "_what sort of idiot are you_?" I just raise my hands palm up and shrug, giving him a smile that he knows well, the one that says, _"Didn't you know? I'm your idiot, babe."_ He makes some irritated little noise in the back of his throat and ignores me again. That's fine though, still watchin'.

As he frees each of the pale blooms, he lays them with the first until all five are laid in a neat pile. He arranges them a bit to his satisfaction, and sits back in a crouch with a soft exhalation of breath. He sits for a few minutes in silence and I shift occasionally to keep my legs from goin' to sleep while I wait, nervously, to see what mood he'll be in. I really hope it won't be one of his bad years. Those ones tend to hurt, inside and out. A lot.

Yugi understands why I never walked away after the first bad year. He's cool like that. He always looks out for _all_ his friends. He could see that, of the two of us, I wasn't the one who was hurtin' the worst. I've never met a person who _forgives_ the way the little guy does. Don't harm his friends or he'll fight like a tiger, but he's got a bottomless store of patience and second chances squirreled away somewhere that he doesn't mind giving out to friends and enemies alike. He doesn't charge enough for them if you ask me, but that's why he's the Good Guy and I'm the Best Friend of the Good Guy. 'Sides, he's got Atem to mentor him in the ways of caution.

Honda wasn't as understanding about my "demon lover" and his aggressive mourning techniques. He wanted to kill him and put _me_ in a home for the mentally inept. We got in a few fist-fights over the whole thing. I'm pretty sure he went easy on me out of pity. I haven't got him back for that yet. He still doesn't approve of the relationship, I think he's still waiting with a big I-told-you-so for something to go wrong. After all these years though, he's starting to trust me enough to back off and pretend that he's happy as long as I am. Jerk. Love him for it.

Anzu's approach was to take me out to Burger World and proceeded to inflict me with the, Your-boyfriend-is-an-abusive-jerk, stop-defending-him, save-yourself-while-you-still-can speech. I was already stressed so it didn't go over well. I don't remember what I called her, but she stormed out and left me to walk home. I later apologized for humiliating her in public like I did. She was just being a friend. She lectured me, hugged and kissed me and forgave and forgot the whole incident. We're cool. We still go out for lunch when she thinks I'm being a dumb ass.

Actually, I think she's probably some sort of closet fan girl, she seems to think we're "adorable" these days.

Sis…she didn't know. Still doesn't know. I mean, she knows we're together, just not the details of the rough times. I shouldn't keep secrets, I just don't wanna upset her anymore. She says she's cool with our relationship but she's gotten distant. It's hard for her to see us together. I can't blame her. If I had to watch her date a guy identical to _my_ "dead" boyfriend and still try to be supportive, I think I'd fail. Going to America for school was good for her. And maybe us too, it's easier to be honest with each other when we're not trying to protect her.

I think this year is gonna be alright though. As he blindly reaches out a hand to where I am behind him, his eyes facing stubbornly forward, I _know_ it's gonna be a good year.

I take his hand and squeeze it, but then I let go. He looks over his shoulder at me inquisitively, something perilous, almost fragile, in his eyes. Does he think I'm turning him down? Silly bastard oughta know I wouldn't do that on a day like this. I unfold my legs and open my arms to him in invitation. He hesitates, but only for a second. And then he's settling his back to my front, his weight against my chest. My arms go around him immediately, my right hand over his chest, my left wound about his hard waist. I lay my chin on his shoulder and he tangles his fingers with mine over his heart. He sighs, shudders and relaxes against me, as if a weight has been lifted from him. He closes his eyes and I bury my face in his hair.

I can still smell the roses on him.

If anyone had told me five years ago that I would someday be holding this particular creature in my arms like this, that he would allow himself to relax in my embrace, seek comfort from it, I'd have laughed my ass of. Before I socked 'em a good one I mean.

It scares me sometimes, this feeling that I want to never let him go. I used to hate him so much. He was the enemy, a clever fiend to be on your guard against. I'd watched him and felt guilty for watching him, for the dreams I'd had about him. Really _good_ dreams, if they had been about anyone else. Ryou I would have understood (after I got over the fact that I was perving on a dude) but not his darker tagalong. Oh yeah, those were _definitely_ not the kinda dreams you have about an enemy.

'Course, they ain't dreams now. And he hasn't been an enemy for a long time.

He's mortal now, as far as anyone can tell. Still got some freaky ass mojo he can do, but other than that he's as human as any other guy. Feels the cold more than most though, at least when he's tired. He starts to shiver a bit now, and I hold him closer to me. After a few moments he pushes my arms away and shrugs out of the wet jacket (_my_ wet jacket) that he's wearin'.

Hey, that's my favorite shirt he's got on! The little _klepto_…

Did he just dress himself out of my side of the closet or something? I start to ask him that very thing when he gives me a smug, creepily possessive look as he burrows with me into the warm, dry jacket I have on. He knows I love that shirt, we're gonna have words over this. I grumble a bit as I let him pull my arms back around him, but I ain't gonna start a fight over it right now. It's an old argument; it can wait.

We sit in silence for awhile, long enough that the sunrise has faded and the early bird has long since caught his worm and moved onto loud, enthusiastic narratives about his nest building prowess to anyone who'll listen.

I'm pretty sure my legs have gone to sleep at this point. I nudge him a bit with my knee, wincing at the tingling of blood getting sluggishly back to work, but he doesn't respond with more than a mumbled curse. I think he's fallen asleep, really asleep this time. I move around a bit, try to stretch my legs out without disturbing him and he pinches my leg.

Hard.

I yelp and jump a bit, earning me another pinch. I grab his hand and settle quickly before releasing him. Damn, how do I forget what a light sleeper he is? Not to mention not being a morning person. I usually avoid waking him when I can, me not being suicidal an' all.

I hear him mumble something. I wait to see if he'll repeat himself since I didn't quite catch that.

"Katsuya!" he rasps, his voice harsh from disuse.

My name. He's the only one who ever uses my real name, I think he does it to irritate me. But strangely, I don't mind when it's him, at least not anymore. Don't tell him though.

"What?" I answer defensively, a hand ready to intercept if he decides to attack me again.

"Thank you", he mutters.

Oh. I don't hear those words from him too often. I guess he means the flowers, so I nod in acknowledgment, only he can't see me, so I tighten my grip a bit in a hug to let him know he's welcome.

Then he asks "What did you bring to eat?"

...Oops.

I knew I forgot something. He probably didn't eat at all yesterday, an' I usually bring something when I come. I rushed out this morning though and it must've slipped my mind. He turns at my silence and rolls his eyes at my sheepish expression, a faint scowl condemning me. My stomach growls at me as well, to add to the censure. What?! I ain't perfect, I was worried about his state of mind not his stomach.

He raises an eyebrow at me and asks in a deceptively sweet voice "So? Are you going to fix this little oversight?"

I grumble a bit and start to let go of his now warm little body when I remember why I forgot to bring food! I silently congratulate myself for remembering but he's still giving me that look so I rush to enlighten him.

"Well, Yugi and the guys are bringin' food when they come out this morning."

He doesn't look especially pleased; he barely tolerates my presence on this anniversary. He doesn't want to see the others, I know, especially Yugi and Malik, but he just turns back around and slouches further in my arms, stretching his own legs out in front of him. I'm kinda worried that he's takin' it so well, but maybe it's a good thing? He interrupts before I can start thinkin' too hard about it.

"How long?"

How Long? For what? I make some noise in question.

"How long until they arrive?" He clarifies

"Honda said nine-ish when he called, couldn't get a babysitter before then."

He nods and grabs my arm from around his waist and raises it up to look at my watch. I peek over his shoulder to look as well. 7:46. Damn, too early for a weekend. He huffs a bit, hating waiting even more than I do. Which is his fault really, I had to learn more patience to keep up with his crazy mood swings.

"Fine," he says "then tell me a story while we wait."

Okay, that's new. Did he just ask me to tell him a _story_?

"Uh, would you remind repeating that? Just for clarification?"

"I'm bored, I don't feel like moving and I want you to entertain me." He states calmly. "So, unless you brought a book or a television, you are going to tell me a story."

I blink a bit in confusion. "What kinda story we talkin' 'bout here?"

"I don't care what kind," he says impatiently, "make up something if you must, just start talking."

Okay, phrase number one I never thought I'd hear in my lifetime. It's usually somethin' like "Shut the hell up!" Well if he wants a story, I guess I can do that. I got nothin' better to do, and it's actually pretty comfortable sitting here now that I can move my legs without waking His Peevishness. I think for a minute before coming across an idea that might work.

"Alright, fine then, but you asked for it. So… Once upon a time..."

TBC

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Words in parenthesis are original author's notes.

(I have never written a story in my life before this. Second grade doesn't count, the teacher made me. Anything else was a failure. But this was bugging me to no end so I wrote it.

So, is this worth more than a one-shot? Can it even stand as a one-shot on it's own? Be honest, I don't attack for honesty and I really wanna know. If you got this far, thank you for reading.)


	2. High Noon

This chapter was originally posted on, or about, 08-11-04. It has been touched up and a few changes made in preparation for the completion, and possible prequel, of the story. Chapter 3 should be reposted by Saturday, 08-04-07.

Story plot is mine, unless I inadvertently stole it and don't know about it.

Yu-Gi-Oh was created by Kazuki Takahashi, not me. It's my money sink, not my bread winner.

Enjoy.

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Chapter 2

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"Once upon a time..."

"..."

"Uhh..."

"Well?"

"I'm thinkin', alright?!"

"...Idiot."

Okay, so I can't tell a story under pressure. Just 'cuz he can make stuff up on the spur of the moment doesn't give him a right to criticize. Just makes him a scary good liar. But he's lookin' at me again, expectantly, like he really doesn't doubt that I can, and will, perform. I hate that, when he thinks wanting it will make it true. Makes it more humiliating to hold back than to fail, y'know? Damn. Damndamndamn.

Why am I stressing about this anyway? Jeez, Jou, it's just a story. Chill out.

"Alright," I warn him, "I think I got somethin'. But no laughin'! You want free entertainment, you get what you pay for."

He turns back around, satisfied, and settles in as I take a deep breath.

"Okay. So once upon a time-"

"This _again_?" He mutters. He's rollin' his eyes, I just_ know _it.

"Hey, who's telling the story here, you or me? You just sit back and let me work." I pause as it occurs to me that I could get out of this "Unless you think you can do better?" Heh, he's a sucker for a challenge-

"Oh please, of course I can." I _knew_ it! Who's the man? "But I want something I haven't heard before, which is why you're telling this despite your pathetic attempt to manipulate me." _Damn_. "Now get on with it."

I mumble something uncomplimentary under my breath, but he's got me. He knows me at least as well as I know him, and he's a born manipulator. But I actually know what story I could tell now that I think of it. I figure it's best to get this turkey rollin' before he decides to have a bad day after all.

"Alright, fine," I grumble. For show, so he knows he ain't pushin' me around. ' Well, every good story begins with once upon a time," A pause to make sure he won't interrupt. He doesn't so I go on. "But this one is probably more like once _before_ time. Or maybe right at the beginning..."

"Anyway! The great mystical powers of creation, whoever they are, made this person, this guy. And they put him on this big ball of energy and told him to make somethin' of it."

"So this guy... Lemme think. First things first, he needs a place to stand. So he makes a rock. A big, round, rock. It's dark and quiet and empty down there. He can't see crap, so the next thing he does is builds a fire. A big, warm fire, so big it lights up everything as far as the eye can see. Which, at this point, is diddley squat."

"So he starts making other things to fill in the empty spaces. He makes dirt and trees and water and all sorts of plant stuff. He got hungry so he made the plants and trees grow food. He makes rivers and oceans and fills them up with fish and lizards and frogs an' all those kinda things that live in water. He made birds and bugs and bats and other flying things to fill up the skies. And he made animals to walk on the land too. Cats and rats and elephants and lions and tigers and bears, all kinds of animals. And cows. Because you can't have a good burger without cows. "

"And he goes out there among all this new stuff, walkin' and walkin' and walkin'. And he notices that the animals are gettin' together and making more animals. And he starts to wonder; why's he the only one like himself in this whole entire place? That don't make any sense. Aren't there other people? Well the guy starts feeling lonely."

"Then the dude has this bright idea! Maybe he isn't _really_ alone. Maybe there's somebody else out there and he just hasn't found 'em yet! He doesn't _remember_ makin' another person, but then he's pretty sure he didn't make himself either, so maybe the other people are just somewhere else."

"The man decides he's goin' babe huntin' Not that he knows what a babe is, but he's sure he'll know her when he finds her. "

"So this guy starts packing his stuff for a trip. He packs a lunch and some tools and blankets. But when he gets to his fire, he realizes something: he's got a problem. He can't fit that big ol' fire in his itty bitty bag. But without it's light, how's he gonna see what he's huntin' for?"

"He sits himself down to think about this. "

"The first thing he thinks of is that he could drag it behind him on a rope or somethin'. But that idea got scrapped after he burnt down a forest and had to rebuild it."

"Next he tried floating it in the river. Which was really dumb. The water dried up and the fire almost died. He had to nurse it back to health before he could try again."

"So now he's pretty stumped. Then he looks up in the sky and sees a bird flying by. It swoops and dives and never hits anything. _Oh_, the man thinks, _if only this fire were like a bird, then I could take it with me and bring no harm, for the skies are empty except for the birds, and they are nimble and will dodge_. "

"_That's it_! He thinks. He could teach the fire to fly! "

"So he asks the birds to teach the fire to fly, and once it's flying good, he attaches a rope to it and sets out on his quest."

"Round and round and round he goes, makin' laps around the world, and still he's alone. And I tell ya, he's starting to get tired. All the animals have seen this fire in the sky, and some of them are gettin' pretty upset. 'Cuz, y'know, it's dark when this fire is gone and they want him to keep comin' around and share with them. So he's walkin' and walkin' and walkin' and not finding anybody, wishin' he had some reason to go on aside from just carryin' this flame so the animals will stay happy. And the Great Spirit guys who put him down there are startin' to pity the guy. "

"So the one spirit says to the other one, "_He is alone_.""

"And the other one says, "_**Yes, he is**_." "

"And the first points out, "_We are not alone_.""

" So the second replies, "_**No, we are not**_."

"And the first one says. "_He should not be alone_. ""

"And the seconds says "_**No, he should not**_.""

""_We will send him a companion?_" The first asks."

""_**Yes**_." the second replies. "_**That would be good**_.""

"So they make a companion for this guy and put her down on the world. But she's in the darkness, and she doesn't know where she is or where to go."

"But then, she sees this light off in the distance. It's the only thing she can see, so she set off walkin' toward it."

"Then she comes to this big body of water and the big light she's been followin' is reflectin' on the water. She can't see where the big light _is_ exactly, but she knows what direction it's comin' from. So she starts to go after the light again, but she thinks about it and realizes, it's pretty dark out there, she can't see too well and her feet are sore and bleedin' from walking in the dark with nothin' on her feet. So she stops and picks up the reflection on the water. It's small and light and doesn't hurt her so she carries it with her in her arms. It's a dim light, a pale shadow of the great fire she's following, but it shows her where she's goin' "

"So she's walkin' and walkin' and walkin', around and around and around, and she's noticing that she's the only person like herself out there. She meets all sorts of animals but none of them are like her. And she asks the other creatures about the great fire, and the world around her, and she finds out that there is one other creature like her, a man creature. And she learns that this man thing is the carrier of this great light in the sky. They tell her how the fire gives a great light and warmth to all the land, and how the man leads it along in the sky and is lonely and tired, how he wishes to meet another like himself. "

"And the woman creature is thinkin', _sweet_. Now she's got hope and she's determined to find this light, and it's keeper, so she begins to run. And she's getting closer and closer and closer, she can see the reflection growin' bigger and bigger and bigger, every moment. Little by little she is reaching her goal."

"But see, the guy doesn't know this, 'cuz the great spirit guys aren't kind enough to clue the poor guy in. But the animals start talkin' to him one day, and they're askin' him about the woman creature with the pale glowing thing that gives off a light that doesn't burn. And he's like "Huh?" "

"This guy has no clue, seriously, he didn't know the animals could _talk_. He was too worried with his questin' and creatin' to try talkin' to _them_. So he's listening to these questions and stories as he's walkin' in his endless circle, and he's gettin' excited. There's somebody else out there! Yeah, he's all psyched, he's been searching for _so long_ for another person! So he starts running. "

"Now see, this is a bad thing. The woman has just about caught up with this great fire guy, but suddenly he's moving further away!? What the heck? Well, she ain't givin' up, she just keeps on truckin'."

"Then years go by, the man and the woman keep chasing each other, spurred on by stories from the animals. Always, they're thinkin' they're gonna find this other, this person who they'd heard so much about and had grown to love. "

"Finally though, after a long time of trying, the man decides to try something new. He's tried of walkin' and runnin' and havin' no luck catchin' this girl. So he ties this fire of his in one spot and goes out to find this girl. Surely she'll find her way to the fire if it stays in one spot right? The _girl_ will find _him_."

"So this big world thing is turnin' and circlin' the great fire now. But, the guy, he's fallen asleep. And still he keeps runnin' under this fire because his legs have forgotten how to stand still. He just runs, with his heart breakin', while he waits for this girl to come to him."

"But sadly, the girl had fallen deeply asleep too, her heart also breaking slowly and her legs moving endlessly as she circles the Earth in search of a lover she can never quite find. And her tiny light grows and shrinks, and sometimes she passes right next to the man. The pale and golden light touch and overlap and move on again, but they both continue to run in their endless sleep, always alone, and the world goes on forgotten..."

_To be continued..._

* * *

Words in parenthesis are original author's notes.

(Thank you to Kitty, Foxy and Selanikas for your reviews.

Yes, you are all clever little duckies, but I prefer not to give away any info outside the story. It's all a seeeecreeeeet... Because I'm not sure where this is gonna go for sure.

Having never written for a proper audience of more than one-who-is-many before, I find that praise makes me giddy and inclined to write more. And I really want to know if I'm doing something wrong as well, so if you find any flaw, typos, grammatical errors not associated with Jou's speech patterns...be a dear and tell me?

Oh yeah, and FYI? Jou's story is mine. Unless you can prove other ownership, no touchie please! M'kay?

Thank you all soooo much for reading!)


	3. Sunset

Eh, a day late, a dollar short. Well, many dollars short. Heck, if I were making a single dollar off'a this thing, I'd be a criminal. All of the dollars belong to Kazuki Takahashi and the lucky bastards Takahashi-sensei has licensed his brain-child too. Or something like that. Bottom line? Ain't mine or there'd be pictures.

(Is a whore for art.)

Sentences in _italics_ are memories.

Words enclosed /./thus/./ (or similar) are mind speech.

* * *

Chapter 3-Sunset

* * *

"…Always alone, and the world goes on forgotten..."

Katsuya's voice fades out as other words echo in my mind. A father's advice to someone else. Someone I have never been and cannot be.

"_Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it."_

A story, a small diversion; that had been my wish. A simple request, one would think.

My attention is drawn into focus at the announcement that the story is over. He wants to know what I'm thinking. I wonder what he would say if I told him I was trying not to vomit.

"I thought you were going to tell me a story I hadn't heard before." I growl. My throat is almost too tight to get the words out. My weary mind trembles under the weight of memories dredged up by his recital. It had _hurt_ to hear it again after all these years, especially now.

"Whaa? What're you talkin' about?! I just _did_!" He protests.

He's offended. That shouldn't amuse me. It does though. Laughing at him always makes me feel better, so I do, though it has a raspy quality to it. I hope that he's so caught up in feeling indignant that he won't notice. I despise his pity.

"Try again, Katsuya."

I'd wanted him to distract me from my circling thoughts. His voice is vibrant, living. Hard to ignore. True he can be loud and obnoxious, quite frequently so. I'd craved for his voice anyway. To wash over me, to feel the vibration move from his body to mine. I'd wanted the steady beat of his heart to ground me in the here and now.

Now I regret having asked. He would only remind me that I've brought it on myself were I to complain. I wished for him to distract me from my _own_ memories. I hadn't counted on memories not of my own making.

"_Would you like to hear a story, Ryou-kun?" _

"_What did you have in mind, Shizuka-chan?"_

No, this story was not the wisest choice for the telling.

I remember this story in the same way that I have memories of other arms holding me, other voices soothing me, another heartbeat surrounding me.

But these memories _don't_ belong to me. I was never held so safely, so gently, in my entire previous life. I do not remember my mother holding me to her heart. No laughter flavored voices drowning out my anxieties, nor a lover's giving embrace. The arms from my _true_ past were for harm and confinement, to take and possess. The voices in my ears were the shrieks of my murdered dead and the cries of those I wronged; for vengeance, justice, all of them. And the sweet, seductive, _poisonous_ lies of dark Powers, beckoning to me. The only heartbeat that surrounded me was my own, until it was stilled for me. There was no sanctuary.

No, these memories are drawn from the remainder of the mind of a selflessly generous young man. One whose body had been my tool, my haven and my prison.

Ryou Bakura had been my counterpart, the light to my darkness, who was torn from me in a most violent fashion.

Were I to reach out now and touch the warped ruins of our Ring, I would be able to feel his torn soul where it cowers within.

But I _will not_.

I have been with him in this way all through the night. He is, for a change, somewhat at peace this year. I feel less of the fear and confusion that has become his world, but...he does not know me. He is frightened of my presence, now more than he has ever been.

My precious other, treasured more than gold, the shredded remainder of my own flesh and blood descended through time. Traumatized and fractured, without memories to ground himself and no way to reclaim the body_ I_ now reside in. I would grant him the mercy of death if I could let go of the foolish hope that time would heal him. The signs are there, surely…

No. Foolishness. Once a year is all I will allow myself. It's almost _too_ much, to feel what he has become. Dwelling on it will only drive me to madness.

"Hey! Are you even listenin' t'me?"

No, of course not. "Hmm?"

"I saaaaiiiid," the ridiculous man draws out exaggeratedly "Wheeeere. Did you heeeaaar. That stoooryyyy?"

I sigh in agitation. The urge to hurt him is almost overwhelming. He can't just move on, of course not, it's not in his nature. He's like a dog with a bone. I despise agreeing with that idiot priest; however the man does have a point about these canine tendencies.

Whatever. Only_ I_ am allowed to insult _my_ pet.

I turn to look the blond in the eye, sure that I've regained control of my expression by now. It nearly becomes a staring contest between us until I blink (deliberately) and let him think he's won. I turn the question on him with a smirk.

"The question is; where did _you_ hear that story?"

"I didn't _hear_ it from nobody, I _wrote_ it myself." He snaps. I know this of course. However if he wants to follow me on a drunken trip down memory lane, _I'm_ driving.

"'Kura," he ploughs on, "I know I never told you that story. I never told _anyone_ that story. 'Cept sis. And that was, what, 10 years ago or somethin'? You weren't even around!" He's frustrated now.

Too bad for him.

"Really?" I murmur, as if fascinated. "Only her? And I suppose she'd never tell another soul, you did after all swear her to secrecy..."

"What? Why would I do that? It's just some silly story my teacher made me write in middle school."

"Hmm, so she would be free to tell anyone? A boyfriend perhaps?" He's being dense today. Ammit's teeth, he's slow to wake up in the morning. But I know where this is going to lead. I'm in no hurry to go there.

"Well I guess, but..." He trails off as my broad hint strikes. He whispers her name, _Shizuka_, on an exhaled breath. Ah, now he gets it. He is uncomfortable and his eyes darken in sadness. I turn around again so I'm not looking in his eyes and seeing him feel sorry for me. I'm not that pathetic.

"So…I guess she told the story to Ryou?" I tense as he says the name, and he curses, chagrined. I force myself to relax against him, to not be a slave to an emotion I cannot seem to control. It won't be like other years. His loyalty is inhuman and I'm so weary of chasing him away only to find myself the one in flight..

"Of course," I don't bother to mask my contempt for such an obvious question. "Doesn't the story remind you of anything?"

"Uhh, the sun and the moon..?" He hazards.

"_He_ always said that it reminded him of_ us_." I mutter, half bitter, half saddened. I'm referring to Ryou and myself of course. My…partner, brother. To the way he felt about our forced co-existence. The blond knows this and remains silent, though I can feel his arms tighten around me. He's trying to be comforting I think: it kills him to see his loved ones in pain, and he is well aware that it hurts me to speak of my chosen brother. Now that I'm speaking though, I feel the need to continue. I allow myself to accept the token of affection and go on.

"He-Ryou...before his father died, we were not close, as you well know. I found him weak and wanting, used him as a means to an end. And yet, I craved all that he had. Security, wealth, _people_."

"He feared me, denied me, yet wanted what _I_ had as well; Strength, power and confidence. We each wanted something from the other but were so blinded by the searching that neither one of us would give in and see what was before us. Too proud I suppose. We ran in circles searching for one thing, not realizing what we already had. A pitiful existence. We felt alone, each in envy of the other, constantly fighting for dominance..."

"Uh, not to intrude here 'Kura, but that ain't like the story at all." He interrupts cautiously. I had begun to ramble; he hates that habit of mine.

"Of course it is," I argue, "You're simply looking at it in the wrong way."

"But the whole point of the story was just about how the sun and moon were created; it was just some school project." He repeats. "In fact it's not even original, it's just like some story my mom made up when Shizuka an' me were little kids. And anyway, the guy and girl in there ain't nuthin' like you guys. I mean, for one thing, they never even met. Plus, they were in_ love_, not all brotherly an' stuff."

"You idiot!" I snap. "This was before we came to our little, shall we say, understanding." I snort in derision. "Although, as to that, Ryou has always denied that he is attracted to other men; though he was, he could not hide it from me. I, on the other hand, have never worried myself over the silly morals of your society. Narcissistic I'm sure, but I'd have done him in a heartbeat. Separate bodies permitting.

He mumbles something about incest and I pinch his arm, though lightly this time. He'll already have bruises on his leg for startling me awake. It won't do to threaten him away when he's keeping me warm where he is.

"But more than that," I continue, ignoring his yelp of surprise, "we did…care for each other. We didn't underst and at the time, but..." I think for a moment for a way to explain and smirk when something occurs to me, an old memory of my own.

"Do you remember Yugi's eighteenth birthday?" I ask him.

"Was that the one with the exploding cake?" He asks thoughtfully.

"No moron, the one where he finally got up the courage to ask out that annoying girlfriend of his."

"Oh yeah, the drunken one ol' rich-boy Kaiba was hosting!" He exclaims, then grumbles. "I swear he did that just to get in Yugi's pants, the bastard. He should'a stayed in America."

I can feel his growling vibrate through my body and find it oddly relaxing; otherwise I would elbow him in the gut.

"Yes, well, that idiot and his sad excuse for a love life are not the issue. It really was an unfortunate time for a party. Ryou was stressed already and decided to get drunk. We got into some argument he and I, and he forgot to keep his end of the conversation in his head." I smirk lightly at the memory. "He ended up subjecting the entire room to a one ended conversation, in which he lost his temper and started shouting curses at me."

"Why didn't I hear about this?" He laughs, "That's hilarious man!"

"Feh, you were protecting your little midgit's honor. I believe our illustrious King of Morons was falling victim to the priests flirtations?"

"Oh yeah. 'Cuz Kaiba got him drunk and used some lame pickup line. Atem thought he'd challenged them to a friendly duel." A chuckle. "You shoulda seen his face when I explained what kinda "dueling" Kaiba was after." He hums in thought for a moment and shudders suddenly. "Man, I hope I never hear Anzu screech that loudly again! I almost felt sorry for Kaiba, you'd 'a' thought he was tryin' to rape Yugi from the way she was carryin' on."

"And who knew she hit so hard." I murmur in appreciation. The woman is a harridan when she's feeling protective. Best to remain far outside her reach when provoking.

"What I was_ trying_ to explain, though," I emphasize, "had more to do with the younger Kaiba than the priest."

"You mean Mokuba?"

"Yes, the brat." I can tell he's going to try to interrupt, no doubt to defend the young man, but I talk over his attempt. "He watched Ryou 'argue with himself' for several minutes." I muse. It had always been a fond memory of mine.

-

"_No, you _can't_ have it!_

_/./And why not? It would be so easy to-/./_

" _No!"_

_/./Do you even know what a piece like that is worth?/./_

" _I don't_ care _how much you could sell it for!"_

_/./Oh please, he won't miss just one, he could buy every one in the city and not even notice he had them!/./_

"_Tha's not the point! Kaiba-san isn't the forgiving sort and I'm _not_ going to jail again simply because _you_ can't keep _my_ hands to _our self_!"_

_/./Stop being such a child, it was only one night. They released you the next day././_

"_Because they didn't think I was capable of it!"_

_/./You aren't/./_

"_They thought I was_ insane_!"_

_/./Well, if the shoe fits…/./_

_Gasp! " I am not insane!"_

_/./Well if you hadn't screamed like such a girl-/./_

"_That sick fuck had-" _

_/./Oh my, such language, hikari././ _

"_His hand was on m-my-my...down my pants!"_

_/./And you didn't even thank the nice man. How cheap././_

"_Fuck. You."_

_/./Fuck you././ _

"_Fuck you!"_

_/./Fuck you/./_

"_No, FUCK YOU!"_

_/./No, FU-/./_

"_Wow Bakura-san, no wonder they thought you were insane. Do you always do that in public?"_

"_Mokuba-kun! Um… h-how much did you hear?"_

" _Heh, don't worry, I won't say anything to Niisama. Just make sure you leave empty handed, okay?"_

"_Of course! I'd never- I mean-!"_

"_It's cool, don't sweat it! Jeez, you guys are hilarious. Did anyone ever tell you, you guys fight like real brothers?"_

_-_

"After that, Ryou decided it was best to leave early and sober up."

"Dammit, why do I always miss these things?! I mean, Ryou actually did that?"

"Let's just say he didn't hold his alcohol very well." I say, then curse myself silently for the opening I know he'll take.

"Really? I'd 'a never guessed." He says dryly. I knew he would do that. Just because my borrowed body has zero alcohol tolerance…

"Shut up."

"Hey, I didn't say nuthin'." He protests with a shrug.

"No, but you thought it, I know how your mind works."

"Aw, I'm hurt. So wait, Ryou got molested in a jail then?"

I smirk dangerously, though he can't see it. "Only for a moment. The man was quite drunk and thought we were his wife. The sot was trying to 'kiss-and-make-up' I believe. It was really too bad of him to put his hand on our ass."

"So what'd you do to 'im?" Katsuya asks in a sort of morbid fascination.

I think back fondly on the memory. "_I_ didn't have to do anything. Dear sweet _Ryou_ started shrieking like a fish wife and laid the man out cold. He may never have been the greatest fighter, but his right hook was nothing to laugh at. " I state proudly.

"No joke!" he laughs into my shoulder. "Me an' Honda snuck up on him once. Poor Honda had a black eye for a week!" He explains at my inquisitive look.

I drag up the memory and snicker with him, through the 'borrowed' embarrassment.

"So what does all this have to do with you and Ryou bein' like my story?" He asks suddenly.

Back to this again.

"The point is...Ryou remembered the Kaiba brat's words, that we acted like brothers, when he woke up the next morning. He worried viciously at the idea for days. He wanted things to change between us, for the words to become true. I-" I hesitate.

After a time I had begun to agree with the boy. With the Sennen items sealed away at the time, and I having sequestered a portion of my spirit inside his soul room, we were stuck with one another. I grew bored easily, with little to do but observe and provide commentary, which he did his best to ignore. It had started to make sense to have peace between us if only for a chance at intelligent conversation. I began to see what he had meant. We had eventually come to an accord, but it was a long and difficult endeavor.

"I had never had a brother; the idea was new to me. My childhood did not lend itself well to sharing. But I learned enough. Ryou eventually forgot about your hopeless story and its struggle of futility."

"Well excuse me for livin'" He mutters under his breath.

"Until that point, it had been a great weight on his mind, especially after the death of his father." I point out.

"He was afraid of bein' alone." His murmurs brushes against my ear. I shudder at the warmth and wonder if he did that on purpose.

The boy had been devastated at his loss. Those memories are far more painful than the memories of my own father. I was bitter as a child, terrified. Anyone would be, to see their family and everyone they knew, slaughtered before their eyes. But I had not loved _my_ father as Ryou had his. I did not particularly miss mine when he was gone and remember little of him now. I was mad with vengeance, but for myself, not out of loneliness.

"I don't remember him telling you how grateful he was to you. And…your sister. For being there for him." I say quietly.

I feel him shrug. "Well yeah," He mutters," I mean after dad died, we were kinda in the same boat, y'know?" I do. "I was pretty much on _my_ own too. Mom sure didn't want no grown boy livin' in the house."

He's on speaking terms with the bitch-woman, for his sister's sake I'm sure. But he's still bitter. I hear the old hurt in his voice. I hate her.

I turn slightly in his arms and kiss the corner of his jaw. Brush his hair aside and kiss his temple. No words_ I_ can say will heal the wounds his mother left on his heart, only she can mend that. But I would never cast him aside either and let my actions tell him the words I don't speak.

He suddenly catches my mouth in a quick, chaste kiss. He pulls back, gives me a crooked grin. I can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes.

Part of me tries to viciously stamp down the warm, triumphant feeling in my gut at making his eyes warm up like this. A second, truer, part embraces the feeling and proudly proclaims my power at being able to affect him in this way. I decide to ignore the first part and turn fully in his arms to claim his mouth, deeply, as spoils of my victory.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Next should be the final chapter, probably from Yugi's point of view.

Original authors notes are in parenthesis.

(Okay, very important (meaning SOMEBODY PLEASE ANSWER): Is there too much cussing for a PG-13 rating? Er...I don't get out much, so I couldn't say. And how pathetic would it be to get reported for something like language?(EDIT: Thank you, feedback appreciated. And no, I don't watch television or teen movies often, I work too many and odd hours. Also, even the adults didn't cuss in my childhood home. That kinda language would've gotten me The Belt. Reality check duly noted.)

Also, I'm almost certain that I screwed up one of the threads of conversation here, just left it hanging, but I couldn't find it. Y'know how you can't see something because you're standing too close? Kinda like that. So if I'm right, let me know and I'll fix it. Please.

Big thank you to Kat, Foxy and Borath for your reviews, you make me feel all warm and fluffy, not unlike homemade cheesecake.)

Please to be commenting. Tell me I've confused you too, so I don't feel alone...


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